If there was one thing Buggy had learned in life, it was that fortune favored the bold -and occasionally, the stupid. And right now, his crew was being both.
The Buggy Pirates swarmed through the ancient temple like termites in a gold-plated circus tent, prying loose every Dial, trinket, and vaguely shiny thing they could find.
"Careful with those!" Buggy barked, floating upside down near the ceiling while his detached legs clomped behind his men like obedient bodyguards. "If you break them, I'm cutting pay, again!"
A deckhand flinched, juggling a shell-shaped device that glowed faintly blue. "C-Captain, I think this one's humming!"
"That means it's valuable, idiot! Toss it in the crate!"
Mohji squinted at another Dial, holding it up to his ear. "This one's… making wind noises?"
Cabaji, balancing on one hand atop a crumbling pillar, smirked. "Probably a Breath Dial. Or maybe a fart trap. Only one way to find out."
Mohji, very regrettably, pressed the button. A burst of compressed air sent him flying backward into a pile of relics, collapsing it like a deck of cards. Buggy burst out laughing, clapping mid-air. "HAHAHAHA! Perfect landing, Mohji! Do it again!"
"Captain!" Mohji groaned from under a golden bust. "That hurt!"
"Pain builds character! You're welcome!" Buggy said, waving dismissively as his men continued looting.
The operation had all the grace of a drunken circus act, yet somehow, things got done. Rope coils, barrels, crates, everything that could hold loot was quickly filled with Dials, ancient trinkets, and otherworldly junk.
Buggy supervised from above, spinning lazily in the air like a smug balloon.
He was the one constantly going ahead and testing for traps, but he was not about to help with carrying things.
He wasn't about to let others go first either, not after that little "floor-is-made-of-death-plates" incident.
So his legs handled anything requiring groundwork while the rest of him handled the yelling. It was, as he put it, "efficient leadership."
By noon, they'd stripped half the temple clean. Cabaji returned, dragging two skeletons by their boots. "Found these in the side hall. They're not Sky People, no wings. Look more like pirates."
Buggy hovered closer, eyeing their tattered, salt-stained coats. The faded Jolly Rogers stitched onto the sleeves were unfamiliar. "Huh. Guess some unlucky bastards stumbled in here before us," he muttered. "Shame they weren't as good-looking or resourceful as me."
Mohji crouched, poking one skull with a stick. "Think they got killed by those trap plates?"
"Or each other," Cabaji added. "Treasure tends to make people stupid."
Buggy snorted. "Hey! It's not stupidity! It's just violent passion." He turned and barked over his shoulder. "Keep moving! If they left anything worth stealing, I want it!"
Hours later, the team reached a circular chamber lined wall-to-wall with Dials of every shape and color.
The air shimmered faintly with residual energy. In the center sat a single ornate chest, metal bands running across its surface like veins. Buggy's grin stretched ear-to-ear. "Jackpot."
Cabaji tilted his head. "Captain… that looks suspiciously placed."
"Which means it's important," Buggy said, already floating toward it with gleeful abandon.
Mohji bit his lip. "Or booby-trapped."
"Mohji, if we stopped every time something might explode, we'd never make progress," Buggy replied without looking back.
He landed before the chest, rubbing his hands together with villainous delight. His grin widened to a wicked crescent as he whispered, "Oh, baby, come to papa…"
The rest of the crew instinctively took several steps back. Buggy's fingers curled around the latch. He licked his lips for dramatic effect and threw it open.
A soft purple glow spilled out. Inside lay a strange, spiraling fruit with mottled violet skin and a curling stem, like someone had trapped a storm inside it. Buggy blinked. "…A Devil Fruit?"
Cabaji leaned over his shoulder. "Looks like it."
Mohji's eyes went wide. "Whoa! Captain, maybe it's one of those mythic ones! The kind that lets you control the weather! Or destroy mountains! Or-"
Buggy snatched it up before he could finish, holding it aloft like a trophy. "Or it's one that allows you to stretch your asshole to fit a barrel! Either way, it's mine!"
He laughed, tossing it from hand to hand, then carefully tucked it under his coat. "We'll figure out what this baby does later. For now, it's under my personal protection."
"Uh… meaning?" Cabaji asked.
"Meaning," Buggy said, puffing his chest, "if anyone touches it, I'll use their skull as a juggling ball."
Message received. Loud and clear.
After that discovery, the Buggy Pirates looted the temple with even greater enthusiasm.
They found Dials that shot bursts of flame, Dials that stored sound, even one that unleashed a blinding flash that left everyone bumping into walls for ten minutes.
Buggy, of course, pocketed every shiny one for himself.
"Impact Dials, Breath Dials… I know these two," he muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his floating hands examined one that buzzed faintly in his grip. "But the others? Hah. Nothing a bit of trial and error won't fix."
"Trial and, wait, error?!" Mohji squeaked.
Buggy winked. "Relax! I'll only test them on you if I think they may explode." That didn't make anyone feel better.
By sunset, the ship was loaded to the brim with crates of relics, ancient metals, and enough Dials to outfit a small army. The crew climbed aboard using the massive anchor chain Buggy had hurled earlier, grumbling and sweating the whole way up.
Buggy floated above them, shouting "encouragement."
"Hurry it up! If I have to drag one more of you pathetic clowns up, I'm cutting your rations to half!"
"Captain, you already cut our rations to half!"
"Then I'll halve it again!"
They finally secured everything aboard, and for the first time in weeks, the crew let themselves relax.
The Calm Belt was unnaturally still, perfect weather for a pirate party.
The Buggy Pirates had never known peace like this. Every night became a festival of noise, food, and bad decisions.
They roasted fish on bonfires, drank themselves cross-eyed, and took turns daring each other to activate random Dials.
One ended up causing a mini-tornado inside the kitchen. It was glorious.
Mohji spent most of the week showing off tricks to Richie, who now had the refined manners of a lion that could open rum barrels.
Cabaji juggled flaming Dials while hanging upside-down from the mast, while Buggy stood below, critiquing.
"Five outta ten! You dropped one!"
"It exploded, Captain!"
"Then drop fewer explosive ones!"
Buggy himself enjoyed the week as only a man who'd recently robbed an island blind could.
He lounged on the deck, feet kicked up, devil fruit tucked safely beside him, occasionally barking orders or demands for more booze.
For once, the world felt… still.
Disconnected from the rest of the Grand Line. No Marines, no rival pirates, no chaos. Just endless, shimmering calm.
By the end of the seventh day, even Buggy began to feel restless. He went back to the temple to check on the Log Pose.
The special compass, which had been spinning erratically since they entered the temple, finally steadied.
The needle pointed away from the island toward a new destination, somewhere far to the west.
Buggy grinned, stretching his arms. He immediately flies back to the shore, Log Pose in hand. "Well, it looks like the stupid compass is finally ready."
Cabaji leaned against the railing. "Guess we're leaving?" He spoke as he took the Log Pose from his captain.
"Yup," Buggy said, hopping off the deck and floating toward the shore. "Time to move on. We've bled this place dry."
He landed beside the massive anchor half-buried in the sand and wrapped his arms around the chain. "Alright, you beautiful hunk of iron. Round two!"
He heaved. Muscles flexed. Sand flew. The anchor ripped out of the earth with a satisfying crunch.
Buggy laughed, holding it overhead like a barbaric trophy. "See?! Who needs crewmen when you've got THESE guns!"
Mohji clapped weakly. "Captain, please stop flexing before you herniate something…"
"Silence! This is strength training!" He threw the anchor back into the sea with a mighty swing. It landed with a colossal splash, rocking the ship.
The crew hurried to coil the chain, spinning the winch while Buggy watched proudly. "From now on," he declared, hands on his hips, "I'm pulling the anchor myself every time we stop! Builds character!"
Cabaji muttered under his breath, "And breaks spines…"
-
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Hours later, the Buggy Pirates were once again adrift in the eerily placid Calm Belt. The sea stretched endlessly in every direction, flat, glassy, and impossibly quiet. Everything felt peaceful… until a panicked shout shattered it.
"C-CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN BUGGY!"
Buggy nearly dropped his drink. "What now?!"
The watchman scrambled down from the lookout, face pale as milk. "T-The island, Captain! I- it's gone!"
Buggy blinked. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"
"I-I mean gone!" the sailor stammered. "I was watching it for a while, and then… I turned away for a second, and when I looked back- it wasn't there!"
The crew exchanged uneasy glances. Cabaji frowned. "Are you sure it didn't just sink?"
"There wasn't a splash or any waves! It just… vanished!"
Mohji swallowed hard. "Captain… I-is that something normal in the Grand Line?"
Buggy pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. Then, with a crooked grin, he chuckled. "Heh, course not… didn't know the Grand Line also had Quantum Objects."
"Quantum… what?" Mohji asked.
"Well, it's a really broad term, but in this case, I'm referring to objects that only exist when you look at them!" Buggy waved dismissively, smirking.
"Guess we just ran into a whole-ass Quantum Island. Explains why Marines haven't set up shop here... Who knows where it may be now..."
The crew stared, unsure whether to laugh or panic. Buggy, however, leaned back against the railing, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Heh. Figures. Even the islands can't resist disappearing acts around me."
The men groaned, but laughter soon followed, nervous, exhausted laughter, echoing over the calm sea.
And as the Buggy Pirates rowed on, the spot where the island had been remained empty. Just still water, endless and quiet, like the stage after the show's grand finale.